


Hidden

by kate_the_reader



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Fluff, LITERALLY, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 10:47:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8976553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kate_the_reader/pseuds/kate_the_reader
Summary: Eames isn't the best housekeeper.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hooptedoodle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hooptedoodle/gifts).



> A little bit of fluff for my darling Hooptedoodle, whose brilliant brain came up with this as a prompt: "dust bunnies".  
> Hope it makes you smile, my dear friend.

“Eames?” Arthur’s voice is muffled. 

Eames walks into the bedroom but he can't see Arthur. “Darling?” he says.

“Under here,” says Arthur, and Eames rounds the bed to see Arthur’s arse, clad in dark charcoal suit trousers, sticking out from underneath.

“What are you doing under there?” He can't help grinning as Arthur's bottom wiggles and he backs out. He’s flushed, his hair is a tousled mess and there are dust bunnies clinging to his shirt front.

“I kicked my shoe and it skidded all the way under. Jeez, Eames, don't you ever vacuum under there?” He sneezes. 

“Um,” says Eames, trying to recall the last time, “Not often enough, I suppose.”

“Well, really!” huffs Arthur, brushing himself off, “I guess I’ll have to take over then.”

“Oh darling,” says Eames, stepping close so he can run his hands through Arthur’s hair, where’s he’s missed the biggest dust bunny of all, “I’m sorry.” He combs Arthur’s hair with his fingers, tilts his chin and kisses him. “How ever do you put up with me?”

“Hmmf,” says Arthur, muffled again, “I really don’t know, Mr Eames.”

Much, much later, a languid, sweaty Arthur stretches and lays his head on Eames’ shoulder. “And what’s in that enormous box under the bed?” he says, yawning.

“This close to Christmas? Never you mind about that, darling,” says Eames, looking down at Arthur’s delighted dimples. “Never you mind.”


End file.
